


Loud as Hope

by strangestorys



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Belly Kink, Couch Cuddles, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feeding, Fluff, Food Kink, Frottage, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Finale, Post-Season/Series 03, Trauma Recovery, daddy tummy, tummies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:46:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5027185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangestorys/pseuds/strangestorys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal is slow to recover from his wounds after the fall, and Will nurses him back to health while they work out their feelings towards each other and their new situation.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>As Will worked in the kitchen, he reflected on the sight of Hannibal sleeping on the sofa and felt a stir of something in his chest. Being with Hannibal still made him feel a little uneasy, though that uneasiness had shifted from nervous fear into a soft longing in the years they’d known each other.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

After the fall, after waking up soaked and dehydrated and missing entirely too much blood, after surviving a series of events that should have killed both of them many times over, after patching each other up with shaking hands and morphine stolen from a parked ambulance, after checking into a motel under fake names and healing for a week with the "do not disturb" tag on the door, after finally feeling confident enough to stand and drive further up the coast in one of Hannibal's stashed cars; after all this, finally Will found himself staring down the dock at his own boat, keys pulled from his hidden lockbox near the pier.

To sea, then. And down and down and down the coast they would go, as far from Maryland and their old lives as they could.

 

Will unlocked the cabin and gave everything a once-over, quickly making mental notes of what they would need to survive the trip. Extra gasoline, bread, butter, milk, cheese, toothbrushes, soap, maybe a few magazines. An extra blanket or two. They'd been able to grab a few pieces of clothing from the beach house before they left, though they all belonged to Hannibal - Hannibal before his stint in prison, when he was bigger and more robust than he is now - and as a result, Will was swimming in them, pulling his pants up his hips every few minutes. They’d have to stop and get a belt when they got a chance to go to a real store.

He looked over at his traveling partner, giving him a quick catalogue as well while Hannibal gazed over the deck at the horizon. He took in Hannibal's thin frame, his too-flat belly, his too-prominent cheekbones. His color was pale and grey, and his eyes shadowed purple. Hannibal's old clothing hung off him too, the shoulders of his sweater flat and the rear of his meticulously-tailored pants now shapeless and loose. Something needed to be done about that. He increased the amount of food on his mental list by several times.

They mutually agreed that Will, having a much less-recognizable face, and more stamina besides, should be the one to do their shopping. 

He left Hannibal there staring out into the sea, enjoying the sunshine and the light breeze in his face. Though obviously exhausted and in pain, his face looked as calm as Will had ever seen it, his closed eyes smiling gently and his chest inhaling deeply and slowly, preserving everything about this moment to memory. Every second they had now was hard-won, and every second had the potential to be their last as free men. Will knew this tightrope walk would be their reality for the rest of their lives. He knew Hannibal had never been happier, but he was still working out how he felt about that for himself.

 

When he returned from the small gas station that was the closest thing to a grocery store near the pier, he was surprised to find the cabin looking lighter and fresher than when he’d left. Hannibal had aired out the living area, dusted the furniture, and pulled new sheets across the bed while Will had gathered their supplies.

Hannibal himself was sleeping stretched on his back across the small sofa, feet hanging over the edge. His chest was rising and falling slowly, and he was emitting small sighs with every exhale. Given Hannibal's slowly building, but still low, stamina over the last few days, Will was surprised that he'd even made it this long without passing out. He decided to let Hannibal sleep while he put their groceries away in the galley and prepared dinner.

The peritonitis from his bullet wound had taken a significant toll on Hannibal. He was lax and pliable; he showed obvious concern for Will’s own injuries, and he had helped Will stitch himself up during the initial adrenaline rush of their first few hours out of the water. But the crash had taken Hannibal down much harder than Will, and Will had found himself playing nurse for a man he’d had violent fantasies about murdering for years, and now couldn’t afford to lose.

Starting on their first night in the motel, Will had taken to waking several times throughout the night to check Hannibal's wound for signs of infection and redress his bandages as needed - Will knew that, despite Hannibal's feeble protests that first night, there was a part of Hannibal that reveled in his care and his soft touch. Will had settled Hannibal into a slow routine, trying to keep him asleep as much as possible, but making sure he ate every few hours and had a sponge bath at least every evening. He knew Hannibal would appreciate the dignity of being clean more than just about anything he could provide. Hannibal had stopped complaining about it after a day, and now mostly allowed Will to move him around as he pleased.

As Will worked in the kitchen, he reflected on the sight of Hannibal sleeping on the sofa and felt a stir of something in his chest. Being with Hannibal still made him feel a little uneasy, though that uneasiness had shifted from nervous fear into a soft longing in the years they’d known each other.

He knew that Hannibal wanted him, and he was slowly becoming comfortable with the fact that he also wanted Hannibal, and _badly_. He thought back to one evening in the motel – after a few days, Hannibal had regained at least enough strength to bathe himself with a washcloth, sitting on the closed toilet. Will had left him to it, with Hannibal’s promise to shout if he needed help. 

After a few minutes of only the soft sound of running water, Will had heard a quiet moan coming through the door. He’d perked up, ready to run in and help if Hannibal needed him. But the noise remained soft and low, and Will blushed when he realized that it was accompanied by the rhythmic sound of skin-on-skin.

It only made sense, Hannibal having gone without soft touch or privacy in over three years, and now spending his every minute with Will. Will thought he’d probably be jacking off too if he were in Hannibal’s shoes.

Will had felt himself becoming hard at the sound and thought of Hannibal touching himself, and he made quick work of his fly, freeing his own cock. He knew he’d have to hurry, and after a few seconds of enjoying the feel of gliding his hand slowly up and down his shaft, he began to tug at himself fast and hard, making an effort to stifle his own moans. He heard a long, low groan from the next room, followed by silence, and he tensed and felt himself spill hard over his own hand in response.

A few minutes after he’d wiped himself up with a tissue and put himself away, he’d heard Hannibal’s small call from the bathroom. He stood from the little motel bed and went to help Hannibal stand and make his way back to the bed, each of them pointedly pretending they hadn’t just listened to the other jerk off like schoolboys.

Now, days later, they’d yet to discuss the event or their mutual attraction, and Will was content to let it lie while he sorted his feelings about their situation and while Hannibal healed.

 

There hadn’t been much choice of food at the gas station, but Will had made the most of it, choosing things that were versatile and hearty. He buttered bread and put it in a pan on the small gas stove, layering cheese on it to make them sandwiches. When those were done, he prepared a pot with a couple of cans of tomato soup – hardly high cuisine, but warm and filling, and comforting in a way he knew they both needed.

Hannibal was up using the restroom and changing into his pajama pants when Will came back into the small living area – no reason for formality when it was just the two of them. Will sat on the sofa and laid out their dinners on the table.

When Hannibal came back in, eyes still lazy with sleep, he sat next to Will silently. Will knew Hannibal’s contentment at being with Will was tinged with displeasure and frustration at being so weak - they were both vulnerable here, and they were navigating a new place in their relationship to each other and to the world. Finally being at rest on the boat meant they had to start working through their emotions and desires, and Will knew Hannibal could see the exhaustion of it in his eyes.

Will reached a hand out and rubbed Hannibal on the back. When Hannibal leaned into the touch, he turned them both, hugging Hannibal tightly. “We’re here now.” Hannibal sighed out his assent, and held Will in return, burying his nose in Will’s hair and breathing deeply. They stayed that way for long minutes, feeling the rocking of the boat under them and the other’s presence.

Will broke away, and Hannibal scooted back into his lap, Will's front pressing against the back of Hannibal's loose cable knit sweater. The larger man leaned back into Will, tucking his shoulder under Will's chin and sighing contentedly. Will guessed it had been a long time since Hannibal had given in and allowed someone to take care of him like this, maybe even since his childhood. He stroked Hannibal's hair gently, tucking the short strands behind his ear. Hannibal sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head into Will’s soft touch.

They fit together comfortably, Will's hand resting on Hannibal's belly and feeling it move up and down with his slow, deep breathing. Will moved to tuck his hand under Hannibal's sweater and feel the skin of his stomach. Restricting himself to the left side and avoiding Hannibal’s wound, he took his time rubbing it in broad semi-circles, stopping occasionally to familiarize himself with the velvety skin around the navel and the coarse trail of hair leading downwards. Hannibal hummed in appreciation, and softly squeezed Will’s thigh where his hand was resting.

They were both warm and content and imperfect, and Will knew they’d chosen the best path.

After several minutes, Will took one of the bowls of soup from the table and handed it to Hannibal, wrapping an arm around him to reach the spoon. The soup had cooled enough to eat comfortably, and Will brought a spoonful of it to Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal accepted it from him without hesitation, taking a moment to swallow before seeking Will’s hand for more. They worked slowly, but steadily, until most of the soup was gone.

“I’m sorry it’s not fresh, but it’ll have to do until we can get to a real town.”

“It’s perfect, Will.”

Will, suddenly ravenous, took a few minutes to have some of his own soup and take a few bites of his sandwich before returning to Hannibal, who continued to sit contentedly pressed against him like a big cat, warm and solid.

By now, Will was more than a little hard and was trying to restrain himself from rocking up into Hannibal's backside. He ran his fingers lightly across Hannibal’s scalp, and felt the man in front of him shudder. 

Will reached for the second sandwich and brought it up to Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal took a small bite, and then went for the sandwich with gusto, the warm food seeming to have brought back his appetite and his good spirits for the moment.

“Will, it’s not that I’m not grateful, but I’m not entirely sure how you can call this cheese,” Hannibal teased him with a light smile in his eyes.

“Shut up and eat the sandwich, Hannibal.”

Hannibal did. Will got the impression that Hannibal would do anything Will asked him to at this point, and felt a little uncomfortable with the power.

Will had kept his hand on Hannibal’s stomach, which was now warm and tight. Hannibal groaned a little when Will pushed down on it softly, and Will was a little worried to notice how little it had taken to get Hannibal to this state of fullness. He knew they had some work ahead of them to regain Hannibal's full appetite and vigor. He thought back to multi-course dinners in Hannibal's dining room in Baltimore that had Will reaching under the table to discretely loosen his belt, while Hannibal himself plowed on without the slightest sign of discomfort, as though eating an entire leg of lamb by oneself was the natural state of affairs. The straining buttons of Hannibal's waistcoat, however, always told a different story after dinner (a sight which had left Will throbbingly hard in his pants through several dessert courses). Will knew that Hannibal's very active lifestyle had allowed and even necessitated such excess, leaving only a small, yet respectable, amount of chub around his midsection as proof of his voracity.

Now, though, Hannibal was gaunt and weak. Years of bad, cheap food, and not enough of it, had depleted him physically. Whatever reserve of strength he'd found in himself to take down the Dragon had been left up on that cliff. His clothes hung forlornly, the arms not straining around his biceps as they once had, the button plackets loose over his flat belly. It would take Hannibal at least a month of steady eating, when his meager appetite allowed, to get to where his clothing would even fit again. Will felt up to the challenge.

Will continued rubbing comforting circles onto Hannibal's belly, pressing the half-sandwich up to his mouth and encouraging him to take another bite. 

"Good, you're doing such a good job," he said softly into Hannibal's ear before taking his earlobe gently into his mouth and running his teeth along it. Hannibal gave a soft gasp, and he ate a little more. There was only one bite left, and Hannibal took it from Will’s hand with his teeth, leaving a gentle kiss on Will’s fingertips.

Though Will’s erection was becoming difficult to ignore, he’d been trying to behave himself in favor of caring for Hannibal. It seemed that the entire experience was having an effect on Hannibal as well, as Will noticed the hard line forming along the front of his drawstring pajama pants. He moved forward a little to rub his cock against the warm crease of Hannibal’s ass, and was rewarded with a shallow groan from the man in front of him.

"Tell me what you want, Will. You know I'll give you anything."

Will responded by turning Hannibal’s head and giving him a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. Hannibal placed his hands on the sides of Will’s face and pulled him in for a proper kiss, though he kept it chaste and sweet.

When Will reached his hand down to palm at Hannibal’s cock through his pajama pants, getting to know the feel and weight of it, Hannibal pressed his forehead to Will’s and exhaled raggedly. They existed in this small bubble together for a long minute, eyes closed and breathing each other’s air. There was no real urgency to it, just a slow and delicate comfort. Will’s nose was full with Hannibal’s scent, and he continued to rub Hannibal lazily through his pants until Hannibal made a small sound in the back of his throat and pushed his hips up into Will’s hand.

When he finally slipped his hand under Hannibal’s waistband to grip him more firmly, Hannibal moaned and pressed his mouth to Will’s again. Their kisses became wet and sloppy and uncoordinated, and Will resumed rutting against Hannibal’s backside, unable to restrain himself. He soon felt his own hips stuttering in anticipation of release, and he came into his own his pants with a gasp against Hannibal’s mouth.

Hannibal kissed him through it, and when the aftershocks subsided, he resumed pumping Hannibal until he spilled all over Will’s hand with a soft whimper.

Will reached for one of the paper napkins he’d brought and cleaned them up. He knew he needed to move them to the bed or they’d both be sore in the morning from sleeping on the small sofa, but he was content to lie here for a little while, Hannibal’s warm head on his chest and their bodies full and satisfied.

Will was at home, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is for [remythibedoux](http://archiveofourown.org/users/remythibedoux/pseuds/remythibedoux), who was my life coach through this whole thing, and was inspired by [this EXTREMELY NECESSARY gifset](http://strangestorys.tumblr.com/post/130785446812/baba-yaga-not-only-mads-mikkelsen-eating) of Mads.
> 
> I honestly meant for this to go in a much kinkier direction (and it might still in future chapters), but these boys wanted cuddles instead <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will continues to worry about Hannibal's health while they negotiate their new relationship and sexuality aboard the boat.
> 
> _Will was treating him more or less like a rescued dog, giving him the space he needed to sniff around in the corners and find his own comfort in their new home on the boat, but also ensuring he was well fed and bathed and nurtured. He mostly left him to his own devices to heal on his own time, knowing that he would have appreciated the same had their roles been reversed._

The days following that first night on the boat had been calm and gentle. Will spent a good amount of time charting their course and planning logistics, and he handled all of the cooking. Hannibal would get up for short bursts of energy: small walks around the deck, making the bed, doing the dishes, but more often than not he lay quietly on the small sofa, dozing off his painkillers or watching Will work.

It was obvious that his bullet wound still pained him quite a bit, restricting his movement in certain directions. More than once, Will saw him pause to catch his breath after twisting the wrong way to put a dish in the cupboard or put on his clothing – not that his clothing required a huge amount of effort. They hardly had any beyond the basic t-shirts and comfortable pants Will had been able to find at the big box store near their motel room while they’d convalesced. He’d had to guess at Hannibal’s size, and Hannibal was practically swimming in the size large shirts Will had brought him. Will was almost positive that the clothes would have fit the bigger, fitter Hannibal he’d known in Baltimore, and made himself another mental promise to help that process along.

Will was treating him more or less like a rescued dog, giving him the space he needed to sniff around in the corners and find his own comfort in their new home on the boat, but also ensuring he was well fed and bathed and nurtured. He mostly left him to his own devices to heal on his own time, knowing that he would have appreciated the same had their roles been reversed.

In the mornings, he made them hearty bowls of oatmeal for breakfast, adding an extra handful of nuts to Hannibal’s to try to get his weight back up. In the evenings, they sat together on the sofa to eat, and Will did his best to cook filling meals, meat and potatoes and warm soups. Hannibal’s capacity was still low after his gaunt years in prison, but he ate as much as he could of whatever Will put in front of him. If Hannibal noticed Will’s focus on his body, he hadn’t said anything, just continuing to take Will’s treatment as it came and paying him back with soft kisses and talented hands when they cuddled on the sofa after dinner every night.

After the first few days, Will had charted an effective course that would lead them to the coast of Argentina over a couple of months. There was enough secluded land there that they felt confident they could make a safe home for themselves. By this point, they were off the coast of South Carolina, far enough from their starting berth that Will felt it safe to go to shore again. 

“Hannibal, I’m going to anchor for a few hours today and get us some supplies. Is there anything you need? This may be our last chance for a week or so, I’d like to avoid having to anchor as much as possible.”

“Hmm. As lovely as your boat and your company both are, I find myself needing a change of scenery and a change of clothing. I’ll come with you and do our laundry while you shop.”

“Are you sure you’re up to that? It’s going to be a good couple of hours before we’re ready to come back.”

Will regretted the words as soon as they’d left his mouth. He knew Hannibal wouldn’t have suggested something that was beyond his physical capacity. He hadn’t meant to sound condescending, but he nevertheless feared that he had. To his credit, Hannibal took it in stride, giving Will a soft smile as he replied.

“Will, I’ve done nothing but sleep for the last two weeks. I think I’m going to be fine for a couple of hours of watching a washing machine.”

“Ok. I’ll trust you to know your limits. And you’re right, we probably could stand to freshen up a little. We still can’t be seen on shore together though, at least while we’re in the States.”

“No, we can’t. But I can’t just sit by and leave you to do all our shopping and errands and navigating and cooking, Will. Let me come ashore and help you.” – here he paused briefly and gave a cheeky grin – “I can make it worth your while later.” 

Will felt the tips of his ears blushing at that. This flirty side of Hannibal was something that had come out in the last few days, and something that Will was still trying to get used to. They’d both spent years with their mutual physical attraction going unacknowledged, which made Hannibal’s sudden forwardness after the incident on the sofa unexpected, to say the least. This final wall had come down between them, and Will was slowly becoming aware that the small intimacy they’d shared so far was just the tip of the iceberg of their sexual potential. Hannibal, however happy he was to go at Will’s pace, was obviously reveling in this new power he had to fluster Will.

“Well, in that case, I think we’d better get our errands done and get back to the boat before dinner. Want me to pick up take-out? I think we could both use a meal not cooked over propane.”

“Yes, good. That sounds lovely, Will.”

With that, they tidied up their hair and clothes the best they could and disembarked the boat, Will holding onto Hannibal’s arm to steady him as he gained his land legs back. Will stepped back onto the deck to hand the basket of laundry up to Hannibal, and carried it the length of the dock for him.

“I’ll meet you back here in two hours. There’s only one laundromat in town, I’ll come for you if I don’t see you here.”

“Don’t worry so much, Will. I’ll see you back on the dock. Try and find us some good meat at the shop, I’m ready to get back into the kitchen when you’ll let me.”

“As if I could stop you. I’m starting to think you like me waiting on your hand and foot.”

“Have you heard me complain yet?”

With this, Will shoved the basket of laundry into Hannibal’s arms with a pointed look. “Be back here in two hours. Don’t get in trouble.”

Though tense from worrying about Hannibal, who was more physically vulnerable and had the more recognizable face of the two of them – letting Hannibal talk him into coming to shore really hadn’t been his best idea – Will successfully got through his shopping list. He picked out food he knew could last them for a long time at sea, lots of potatoes, pasta, canned goods, and nuts, plus a bag full of fresh meat and vegetables they’d be able to eat for the next few days. He also made sure to get them each a new pack of t-shirts and underwear, all the better to go without having to wash clothes for a little while longer. Before he could think twice about it, he picked up a big fluffy blanket from the home goods store, remembering how Hannibal had been shivering at night lately. He lugged all this with him into the local diner, where he ordered some warm food for the two of them for that night’s meal.

On returning to the dock, Will found Hannibal sitting on a bench waiting for him as promised, basket of immaculately folded laundry at his feet.

“You’re late, Will.” Hannibal feigned annoyance, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away.

Glancing at his watch, Will rolled his eyes. “Maybe by two minutes. Glad to see you here too. Everything go ok?”

“I was about ready to tear up the town looking for you.”

“God, Hannibal. I’m not going to need to trace the police trackers for the next week, am I?”

“Not to worry, I behaved myself admirably. Even left a nice tip for the attendant. Let’s go home, Will.”

They walked down the dock together, Hannibal handing the bags and baskets down to Will on the deck of the boat before climbing over the railing himself. When they got in, Will set himself to putting away their supplies and laundry while Hannibal lay on the sofa and was soon snoring softly. His naps were becoming fewer and farther between, but he still spent a good portion of each day resting and letting his stomach wound heal. Today’s considerable increase in physical activity had obviously taken it out of him.

“Hannibal? Come on, let’s eat while dinner is still warm.”

“Hmm?” Hannibal woke slowly, grunting as he moved over to give Will room on the sofa.

Will brought them each a big plate of shrimp and grits, butter pooling in the middle, with a pile of green beans cooked in bacon and a piece of buttered cornbread on the side. They ate silently, side-by-side on the sofa with their thighs pressed together. It was more food and much richer than they’d had yet during their recovery, but Hannibal managed it all admirably, even looking forlornly at the plate when he was done. Will was happy to see the increase in his capacity and appetite, and happy that he’d provided food that his partner had found so enjoyable. After they finished, Will moved their plates to the small table and scooted back so Hannibal could lean against him. As had become his habit after dinner, he placed a hand on Hannibal’s tight, full belly, rubbing it softly and listening to his partner’s contented sighs.

“That was delicious, Will. Where did you get it?”

“I asked around in town, and all the locals sent me to the same restaurant. Looks like they were right, it really was good. I haven’t had food like that since I lived down south.”

“It’ll certainly keep us full and warm tonight. I have a great respect for southern food, but haven’t had a chance to work on cooking it myself.”

“I’ll have to show you sometime, then. I grew up learning to cook all that stuff from the ladies who watched me while my dad was off at work. Catfish and hushpuppies, smothered porkchops and collard greens, chicken and dumplings. It tastes like home.”

“Home.”

Hannibal, suddenly overwhelmed with feeling, turned his head then and placed his hand on the side of Will’s face, looking into his eyes intently.

“We’ll cook a dish from your childhood together. I’d like that, Will.”

“Yes. Together.” Will rested his forehead against Hannibal’s, breathing him in.

After a minute, he closed the gap between them, giving Hannibal a small, chaste kiss. Hannibal shut his eyes at this and moaned a little before pressing back more intently. Will moved his hand from Hannibal’s taut belly to run it through the larger man’s short, silver hair, pulling on it a little as he pressed his tongue into Hannibal’s warm mouth. Hannibal responded by moaning again and massaging Will’s tongue with his own. They shifted positions so Hannibal was laying on top of Will lengthways on the sofa and made out lazily like teenagers for long minutes, wet and sweet and messy and perfect.

“In all my imagining, I never knew how good this would be, Will.”

Will hmm’d in agreement, languidly pressing his half-hard cock up against Hannibal and finding him hard as well. Hannibal groaned and gave an involuntary push back down against Will, seeking whatever contact he could get.

“It’s been a great privilege to be here with you, to feel your caring nature directed towards me.”

“We’re here now, Hannibal. Your needs are my needs.”

“And yours mine.”

Will kissed him again as their hips rocked together softly, both content to take this slow. Hannibal was heavy above him, firm and unyielding, and Will’s nose was filled with his scent.

By this point, Will was at full hardness, and after a few minutes, he began pressing against Hannibal more forcefully, legs spread around Hannibal’s hips and soft moans pouring out of his mouth. Hannibal responded by sitting up, removing his shirt, and pushing his pants down just enough to free his cock, then motioning for Will to sit up and do the same. Once Will was undressed and had laid back down, Hannibal took a moment to trace Will’s scar with his eyes, breathing heavily.

“Go ahead and touch it if you want. It’s yours.”

Hannibal looked back up at him, eyes blown. Still panting, he reached up to trace the line with his finger before leaning down to tongue and suck kisses onto the length of it, groaning. Will felt Hannibal’s cock jerk against his thigh as he worked, precum spilling out from the slit.

“It’s yours any time you want it, Hannibal.”

Hannibal raised his head again at this, moving up to give Will a firm and deep kiss on the mouth. He laid his torso back down again between Will’s spread legs, their cocks now pressing against each other between their stomachs. Will felt the ridge of Hannibal’s cockhead push against the tingling line of his scar, and they both moaned in tandem. They began moving together, fucking against each other slowly and sweetly, neither in a particular rush to finish.

It felt like heaven, and Will found himself imagining how good this would be once he’d gotten more weight onto Hannibal’s frame, how the press of his plush belly would feel against Will’s hard cock, and how Hannibal’s big biceps would frame him in. He grabbed onto Hannibal’s hips and spurred him on, suddenly very turned on by the thought.

Hannibal saw the flash of hunger in Will’s eyes and gladly obliged, using the small reserve of strength he had to fuck down against Will relentlessly, precum making their cocks slick against each other. He was grunting now with every thrust, obviously getting close.

Hannibal lowered his head again to mouth at Will’s neck, leaving wet, sloppy kisses up the length of it. Will was seeing stars at this point, and moved a hand up to press Hannibal closer to his neck, needing just a little bit more in order to let go.

“Oh god, Hannibal. I’m so close.” He was fucking up into Hannibal again, trying to find a sweet rhythm that would send him over the edge, when Hannibal bit down gently on the crease of his neck. Will came hard with a groan, cum spilling up onto both their torsos and into Hannibal’s chest hair. On feeling Will’s cock jerk against his own, Hannibal followed him, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and shouting against Will’s shoulder.

Hannibal collapsed bodily onto Will, breathing hard. Will wasn’t entirely comfortable with the pressure this placed on his shoulder wound, but didn’t care enough to move Hannibal, enjoying his weight and closeness.

They both dozed for a minute, Hannibal obviously exhausted by the day’s activities, until Will motioned to get them both up.

“Come on, let’s clean up and get to bed.”

“Hmm? Yeah, ok.” Hannibal just nuzzled his face further into Will’s neck and stayed right where he was.

“Let’s go, you big lug. I can’t carry you, you’re going to have to get up.”

“But you’re so comfortable. Can’t we sleep right here?”

“Hannibal.”

“Ok, ok, I’m up, I’m up.”

“Thank you. Go get the bed turned down, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Will tidied up the kitchen, prepared a warm washcloth, and brought in Hannibal’s big new blanket. He proceeded to clean them up before wrapping them both in the blanket and spooning against Hannibal from behind.

“Goodnight, Hannibal.”

“Goodnight, Will.” 

...

“Oh, and Will?”

“Hmm?”

“I told you I’d make it worth your while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a long time coming, so thanks for being patient with me on this, y'all. 
> 
> Chapter 3 is already drafted, so stay tuned! It'll be a kinky one :D


End file.
